Gravity's Heir by Sara Bond

Author:Sara Bond [Bond, Sara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Rose Writing
Published: 2016-03-10T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Lena’s world shrank down to the trickle of blood coming down the top edge of the steps.

It was thicker than she thought it would be. It didn’t drip so much as creep, falling softly and disappearing over the lip of the next step.

Cedo and Vaso had fallen out of her line of sight. Several guards climbed the stairs to retrieve the bodies and then descended on the opposite side. She couldn’t even get one last glance at her friend. He was gone, leaving behind only that dwindling seep of blood on the marble steps. If it was his blood.

Cedo was gone.

It was all she could do to keep breathing. Deep inhales filling her chest, slipping from her lips in small sobs. She hardly noticed when her knees gave out beneath her, and she sank down into the crowd. Nothing but the press of bodies around her as she forced herself to keep breathing.

He was gone. Her smiling, laughing friend was cold and dead and gone. That passionate, kind, brilliant young man. Everything they had done to get back here, to save him, was pointless. They should have turned and run. He was dead.

Her breaths started to run ragged, catching in her throat, stumbling on tears that she tried to swallow back.

Suddenly, there was someone beside her. A young woman. A stranger who dropped down next to her and grabbed her hand. Squeezed. “Shh,” she murmured. “Shh. You’re okay. You’re okay.” Lena turned to look at her, tried to place her face. She was young, with thick dark hair and soft brown eyes. Did she know this woman?

The struggle to identify her was enough to distract Lena from her breathing. She frowned, ready to ask her who she was, but the woman spoke. “You need to stand up now. You can’t draw attention to yourself. Stand up.” And she got to her own feet and pulled Lena up beside her, still holding tight to her hand. As Lena stumbled upright, the woman squeezed her hand again. “Good girl,” she whispered. “Good girl. You’re okay. Just a little longer. Just get through this. Just a little longer. Just face forward. That’s it. You’re okay.”

Lena dutifully looked forward and drew strength from the hand of this kind stranger. She had almost forgotten where she was: in a dangerous crowd, just inches away from armed soldiers. They were actively looking for signs of sedition, and here she was marking herself as a sympathizer, a friend of the executed. What was she thinking? She wasn’t safe. None of them were.

She finally responded to the woman beside her, squeezing back. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you. I’m okay.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Lena could see the woman nodding, as they both looked forward at the ornamented officers ascending the now clean stairs. She saw no sign of Cedo or Vaso. Even the trickle of blood had been wiped clean. It was as if nothing had happened.

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